


The Vulcan Bite

by coffee666



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: A lot of biting, Biting, Blood Fever, Growling, Horniness, Love Bites, M/M, Mating Bites, Pon Farr, Some Descriptions of Violence, and everything is actually enthusiastically consented to, plak tow, spock is like an animal, very extremely small mentions of like dubious consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 01:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13582686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffee666/pseuds/coffee666
Summary: When Pon Farr hits, Spock knows he must conceal himself in his quarters or risk his violent sex-fiend behavior ruining his career. While trying to check up on his friend, Jim is shocked that a hormone fueled Spock actually bites him.He tries to conceal it and hopes it heals on its own. But what neither of them knows is that the Vulcan bite during Pon Farr can give the victim the exact hormones and symptoms of Plak Tow.Only one thing can resolve their mutual fever.





	The Vulcan Bite

**Author's Note:**

> im posting this at 4 am lol. 
> 
> jeb voice: please clap.

 

“Hmm…and this is educational?” Spock flipped through the dusty pages of the romance novel. It was just one of the many books Jim had in a box in his quarters.

“That one?” Jim looked up from the one he was reading. He glanced at the cover of Spock’s book and grinned. “No, it’s more for entertainment.”

Spock looked back down at the cover. The picture was faded, but he was now able to make out the image of two human males embracing in front of a starry background. Spock raised an eyebrow at the cover, and then looked back up at Jim.

“Don’t judge it by its cover, Mr. Spock. It’s actually a pretty entertaining read. It’s all about this team of space explorers, but it was written way before there was much space travel from Earth. The anachronisms can be distracting, but the romance is pretty good.”

“Romance?” Spock turned the book over, scanning the back cover.

“You can have it, if you want.” Jim said.

Jim was always doing illogical things for him, such as giving him gifts. Just hours ago, it had been raining as they left shore leave on Earth to return to the ship.

Jim had taken one look at Spock, who did not do well when wet and cold, before reaching into one of the boxes he was carrying and pulling out a sweatshirt. He even put the box down long enough drape it over Spock’s shoulders.

Spock did not react at first. It succeeded in making him suddenly quite warmth. That warmth spread up to his face, coloring his cheeks just for a moment. Jim looked back at him and smiled for just a second. Spock looked away long enough to put the sweatshirt on. He pulled the hood up over his head, and when he looked back up, Jim’s back was turned again. Still, Spock felt very warm.

He’d delayed giving the sweatshirt back was once they were back on board. In fact, it was still folded neatly at the foot of Spock’s bed. Logically, he should keep it to wear until Jim asked for it back. It might offend the fragile human’s emotions to give it back so soon.

“Thank you, Captain. Though I am rarely in the need for entertainment, I suppose I can find the time for it.” Spock flipped past the first few pages of the book. It was quite apparent that no one had opened it in quite some time.

He suddenly closed his eyes and sneezed. Vulcans were quite used to fine sand, so he was surprised for a moment.

“Bless you.” Jim looked up from rifling through one of the boxes.

“I must go now. I fear that may be a sign I could be coming down with an illness.” Spock stood up and started for the door that separated the captain’s quarters from the bathroom they shared.

“Uh, if you insist. But if you’re really worried, you should go see Bones. I bet us getting stuck in the rain is what did it. If it’s a cold, you know there’s a pill that will knock that right out.” Jim said.

Spock nodded and went into the bathroom. He washed his hands thoroughly before going to Sick Bay. Spock walked past all of the empty beds before knocking on Dr. McCoy’s door.

“Come in.”

“Doctor, I require medication.” Spock said as he entered. “I believe I contracted a disease on leave.”

He’d spent most of the time on leave working with a few Vulcans who had brought him some updates on New Vulcan’s progress. As much as he wanted to see more of the colony for himself, he was unable to at the time. It seems the decision to stay on Earth for the three days had affected his health.

“A disease?” McCoy took a moment to look away from his computer screen and glance at Spock. A second later, he looked back, and Spock saw him bring up Spock’s record. “What kinda disease?”

“What Terrans refer to as influenza.”

“Not possible.” This time McCoy didn’t look over. “All strains of the flu have been eradicated. You probably just have a cold.”

“Doctor, I feel _bad.”_ Spock’s voice was strained.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go.” McCoy stood up and led him out to one of the beds.

Spock sat down and waited a moment for it to scan all of his vitals. It occurred to him that the doctor might think of him as overreacting, but Spock actually thought he was acting quite level headed. After all, Vulcans had a better immune system than humans, so any sickness Spock did feel would have to be serious. Someone else on the ship could catch it if he was not treated immediately.

“Hm. That’s weird.” McCoy muttered, looking at the readings. “You do have some elevated levels of…”

“What?”

“It’s probably just from your body suddenly adjusting to Earth. It was pretty damp all weekend. Not exactly beach weather, which I’m sure a lot of folks were upset about.”

Spock did not understand what there was to be upset about. They could always go to one of the beaches that was protected by a special field that insured it was always warm and sunny. As for his body adjusting, he did not understand that either. They went down to different planets often, and he’d never felt sick before.

Still, he did not comment, and watched as McCoy walked to a shelf and returned with an orange medicine bottle. It contained two pills.

“Here. Take one and go to sleep. You should feel right as rain in the mornin’.”

There was nothing right about rain, considering it had gotten him feeling sick in the first place. He did not say this. Instead, he took the bottle and asked. “What is the second pill for?”

“Well, it’s an extra dose in case you need it. Keep it in case this comes back in a few days. And, hey,” He turned away from where he had been looking at the chart again. “If you have any more symptoms, I want you to come talk to me, okay?”

Spock nodded. He had not planned on keeping it a secret should it come back. He took his health very seriously, as the First Officer. If he was ill, he could not serve Jim properly. That is to say, he could not serve the ship properly.

Spock stood up and walked towards the door. As he turned back to thank Dr. McCoy, he found that the doctor was sill staring at Spock’s readings, one hand resting on his chin and a serious expression on his face. Spock tried not to think too much about that.

There were a few precautions his mother usually made him take if he was sick after she gave him medicine. First, even though he would feel warm, she insisted that he bundle up. Spock knew he had some warm clothing, but it just so happened that he also still had Jim’s sweatshirt.

Spock entered his quarters and paused. On the foot of his bed, Jim’s sweatshirt was still neatly folded, but on top of it, laid the paperback book Jim had given him, that Spock had then left in Jim’s room.

Jim must have used his override code to enter Spock’s room and return it. Spock did not feel violated in any way. Instead, he felt a warmness inside. Jim had been in Spock’s room alone for the briefest of moments.

What did he see? What did he do? He likely just left the book, but Spock’s mind still wandered. He saw the sweatshirt and did not take it. That proved Spock’s theory that Jim wanted him to hold onto it longer.

He moved the book and picked up the sweatshirt. He pressed his face into the soft maroon material and inhaled deeply. The Vulcan scent was fresh, but the human scent ran deep. It filled Spock’s body with something just as deep that he could not place.

He quickly turned away and sneezed again, reminding him of the issue at hand. He took his uniform shirt put the sweatshirt on over his undershirt. He immediately felt much warmer.

Something else that was apparently good for colds was orange juice. Spock went to the replicator and made a glass. He sighed as he picked it up. He did not really care for Terran fruit. It was much too sweet, and citrus was much too acidic. Still, the vitamins in oranges were one of the original cures for colds. He took the pill with some of the juice and tried not to gag.

When he was finished, he laid down in bed and pulled the blankets around him. In doing so, he heard something fall to the floor by the side of the bed. He looked and saw the book. He reached down and picked it up.

Curiously, he opened it to a random passage. Jim had said this was good for entertainment, and Spock often read before falling asleep. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the faded print, and he began to read.

The main character was the head of a team of Americans on an international space station. The station was described as being much bigger than any realistic space station at that time, and Spock recalled what Jim had said about anachronisms. Spock tried to ignore that detail and press on.

The captain of the Americans seemed to be infatuated with the head of the team of Britain’s. Many passages were dedicated to the way the American felt drawn to the Englishman, despite his coldness and tense professionalism. They never had any interactions, aside from strict professional ones, so Spock did not understand where this infatuation came from on the American’s part.

“Clearly, this is unrequited.” Spock said to himself as he turned the page.

The next chapter was entirely from the Englishman’s perspective. Spock found that his coldness and strict professionalism was actually due to his inability to express his feelings. Truthfully, he longed for the American’s attention. He held his breath whenever they were near, and he was described as feeling warm and fuzzy inside.

Spock raised an eyebrow. That was exactly how he felt when confronted with Jim’s scent, only he had never known the right way to describe it.

Soon, Spock lost track of time, and had been reading for quite a while. He felt tired, but he was also extremely curious to find out if the American would ever realize his love was not unrequited.

“Why is it taking them so long to realize? When will they finally kiss?” Spock wondered aloud, only to have his question answered on the next page.

A small kiss soon escalated into much more. Spock read on, enthralled by the description of their bodies. He could not help but subconsciously imagine the space station looking a lot like the Enterprise, and the American somehow came out looking like Jim.

Spock fell asleep with all of these thoughts swirling in his brain, and the book open flat on his chest.

…

…

_“Spock.” Jim looked over at him. “Did you finish that report I asked for?”_

_“Yes, Captain.”_

_“Wow, you did it so fast! You’re so smart.”_

Spock was only vaguely aware that he was dreaming. He recognized it as a dream, only because Jim’s touch on his shoulder lasted much longer than it did in the waking world.

Perhaps it was a subconscious want manifesting itself in a dream, or maybe just his brain still focusing on the detailed love scene he’d fallen asleep reading. Most likely, it was both.

His dream version of Jim was exactly like he saw Jim in the real world, and he liked to think that he saw Jim exactly how he was. Golden smile, his soft hair, his striking eyes that made Spock’s insides seize up when he looked into them.

 _“Jim…”_ Spock slowly forgot this was a dream, as this was all too real as Jim laid his head on Spock’s shoulder. “ _I have to tell you something important.”_

 _“Hm?”_ Jim turned to face him, their bodies overlapping so that Jim was practically in his lap. He felt his heartrate increase.

_“Recently, I have found myself very attracted to you. I –”_

_“Shh.”_ Jim placed his hand gently over Spock’s lips, and Spock’s heart hammered loudly as Jim leaned in closer and smiled. “ _You don’t have to say it. I know. Don’t you realize I’ve noticed the way you look at me?”_

 _“…”_ Spock said nothing, as Jim’s hand was still over his mouth. Instead, he just looked at Jim so relieved that the words were finally out without ever having to be said.

 _“I feel the same way. Why do you think I like to be so close to you?”_ Jim’s free hand slid down over Spock’s chest. Even though their skin was separated by the material of Spock’s shirt, it was still quite exhilarating.  _“Touch me.”_

Spock did just that, placing his hands on Jim’s thighs as Jim straddled his lap. Something about taking advantage of the permission entered Spock’s mind, and he began to rub Jim’s thighs, letting his hands move around to touch Jim’s buttocks. He could hear Jim’s sharp intake of breath before he spoke again.

_“Kiss me.”_

This was now obviously playing out exactly how the mutual attraction had between the American and Englishman in the novel he had been reading. So, Spock took advantage, acting just as they had.

He felt Jim’s hand slip from his mouth to cup his face. Spock watched as Jim closed his eyes and leaned down. Spock closed his eyes just as Jim’s lips brushed his.

Spock was startled awake by a blaring noise. He gasped and sat up in bed, the book falling from his chest onto the floor.

He looked around in a somewhat confused daze, before his eyes settled on the bedside table. His chronometer alarm was showing that his shift started in less than an hour. Spock reached out and turned it off.

Spock was such a light sleeper, that he’d never slept up to the alarm. He always awoke quite early in order to meditate and have a small breakfast and a shower. Now, he would not have the time. He quickly got out of bed and began to get dressed, all while wondering how he could have overslept. He took off the sweatshirt and carefully folded it and placed it back on his carefully made bed.

He popped into the bathroom and quickly brushed his teeth and combed his hair. Though he preferred his own tea and oatmeal, he figured it best if he ate with everyone else, that way his lateness would not be noticed once they all entered the bridge together.

As he walked to the mess hall, he tried to assess his own posture and make sure his lethargy stayed behind. He was feeling quite professional about himself as he entered, only to stop when he was confronted much earlier than he expected by the object of his affections.

Jim was standing just behind Lieutenant Uhura, leaning on her chair and talking near her ear. He was laughing and grinning, all signs of somewhat flirtatious behavior, if the narration in his romance novel was anything to go by.

Spock was surprised by his own emotion that he recognized as jealousy. It was not over the fact that he once shared a similar, less physical closeness with Nyota, but that he longed to have Jim took at _him_ like that, or touch his hand like what was happening with them now.

He blamed his actions on his lack of meditation that morning, as he quickly approached them and raised his voice much louder than he should have.

“Captain, good morning.”

“Jesus…” Jim nearly jumped before stepping away to approach Spock. “Dammit, Spock, I was _this_ close to getting her to give me her chocolate muffin. I can’t do banana nut again, I just can’t.”

“My apologies.” Spock felt oddly relieved that that’s all Jim was after. Though, it then occurred to him how unprofessional that was. Still, his affection did not sway. Perhaps he really cared for Jim more than he realized.

“Eh, it’s no big deal. I’ll charm one off Scotty. He can’t resist this grin. I still hate these rationing rules. I should be exempt. I’m the captain, for God’s sake.”

Spock did not say that the rules for rationing physical food, while the rest was replicated was the best way to insure they had ample supply should the replicator system go down. Instead, he was suddenly remembering his dream from the night before.  

Jim’s body had felt so real against his own. Spock had been free to touch Jim how he wanted, without even being aware that that was what he’d wanted for so long. He stared into Jim’s eyes, and Jim had said he’d known all along.

Spock suddenly glanced up, studying Jim’s face for any indication that he had the same dream the night before. Sharing dreams was an occasional occurrence between two people with linked minds, but Spock had to remind himself that they were not bonded. They were just…friends.

“What is it?” Jim smiled. That face warmed Spock’s heart, but there was nothing else there that indicated that Jim felt the same way.

“…Nothing.”

“Okay…?” Jim suddenly gave him an odd look before placing his hand on Spock’s shoulder. Spock willed his heartrate down at the sudden touch. “Spock, I have something to tell you, and it might be a little awkward.”

“Tell me.” Spock said, trying to fight urgency from sounding in his voice.

“Your shirt is on backwards.” Jim took his hand away as Spock looked down.

“…So, it is.” He quickly turned it back around.

That must have happened in his haste to get dressed, but Spock could not explain himself over Jim’s laughter. Spock did not really understand what was amusing, but he enjoyed Jim’s laughter anyways.

“Oh, yeah, I meant to ask you what happened last night?” Jim looked at him.

“Last night?” Spock felt his heartrate increase once more. Was Jim implying that he _did_ recall a strange dream from last night after all?

“Yeah, did you get medicine for your cold?”

Spock had honestly forgotten about that. Could the medicine have been what had given him such an odd dream? That and his late-night dream? Yes, he realized. That was it.

“I did.” Spock nodded.

“Good.” Jim gave him one last smile before walking back towards the tables, passing Nyota and heading for Mr. Scott. Spock decided to head to the bridge. He oddly could not imagine eating.

As he began his work, he assessed his own physicality to see if the medicine had actually worked. He did feel a bit tired and sluggish, but that could be due to skipping his meditation.

The longer he kept standing, the more he became aware of an odd heat that seemed to be radiating from him. Spock was never warm on the ship. He was occasionally comfortable, but warm was just something he never felt due to Vulcan’s scorching heat being what he considered comfortable.

He took a moment to step into the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and let a precious few seconds of water coat his hands before splashing it onto his face. Still, it was like his skin began to boil the water.

He examined himself in the mirror. Was he still sick? Vulcans did not get fevers when they were sick. Their immune system activated in a different way. The few times in his life that he was very ill, Spock recalled his body desperately trying to put him in a healing trance in order to fight the infection. Falling into a deep sleep-like state for many hours had not at all been convenient, but it had worked.

Was that what he needed? He was then overcome with the same feeling as last night. Sickness…now coupled with intense heat. Was he…going to pass out?

 No. He just sneezed loudly, the sound echoing off of the walls of the small room.

“Bless you.”

Spock looked over at the sound of flushing and someone stepping out of a stall. Mr. Scott stood by him at the sink and began to wash his hands.

“Thank you.”

“I cannot wait to get done today. Yes, we have something very interesting doing on down in engineering.” He said.

“Is that so?” Spock wondered if Mr. Scott was going to ask for his help. While he did enjoy using his superior strength and intellect in engineering, today he thought he’d better take the second dose of the medicine and go to bed early.

“Yeah, but what’s afterwards is what’s sounding nice. The doctor and I are gonna have a nice drink of…” He caught Spock’s eye in the mirror. “ _Milk_ , with some snacks. You know, I’m never so starving during work, but I think it’s because I gave half my breakfast away to the captain! Why does he have to be so charming!” he laughed.

“Maybe you should learn to stand up for yourself!” Spock snapped before he could stop himself. “You should not give him everything he wants!”

“Eh?”

Spock turned and stalked out of the bathroom, feeling the heat in his body rage at the thought of Jim’s charming smile directed at every person on the ship but him.

He did not go back to work, but instead burst back into his quarters. The higher temperature in his room nearly knocked him to his knees, and he found himself tearing at his clothes, until he laid in his underwear on the floor. It was like he needed to sweat, but his body was incapable of doing so.

“C-Computer…lower temperature to s-sixty degrees…” Spock heard a distinct growl in his voice.

He felt the temperature lower, but only barely helped. He climbed onto his bed and reached for the medicine on the bedside table. He took the second pill with water before curling into a ball on his bed.

It was so unlike him to yell at another crewmember like that. And over what? He knew what. He hated how Jim gave every such lingering gentle attention.

He wanted that attention. He wanted Jim to touch his hands and chest like he had in the dream last night, but he knew it would never be a reality. Still, even the thought filled him with another wave of heat, and another growl escaped his throat.

As he recalled touching Jim, he found himself rising from the bed and stalking around his quarters, along every wall, the heat in his body pulsing and spurring him on.

The memory of Jim’s breath in his ear made him reach for the door separating their quarters. Why was he staying in here, letting the heat burn his body, when the thing that could cool him down was just a few walls away?

“ _Jim….Jim…”_ He reached to open the door, before a tiny moment of clarity entered his mind. “Ah…no.”

He pulled away and slid to the floor. This was bad. This was happening all wrong. When he imagined Pon Farr hitting before, he had the idea of going back to Vulcan and being alright.

Now, he had no bond or planet to return to. Not that that would have mattered if he, he couldn’t go back then either. He was a bondless Vulcan. A bondless Vulcan in love with a human who never even looked at him.

Was he going to die here? No. If he told someone what was going on, they could go to New Vulcan and he could figure something out. Dr. McCoy had said to tell him if Spock still felt sick.

But that had been over a cold. Even has Chief Medical Officer, he had no way to deal with this. No one did. Not even Spock.

He was only certain of two things. One, no one could know about this. His hormones have already started to make him more than just angry. He might do more than just yell if someone were to walk in. He must be a sight in this state, stalking through the room almost naked, the evidence of Pon Farr showing through his underwear.

“C-Computer…” He was so hot. He knew his clarity would fade soon, and he had to take precautions. “Lock the door. Do not let me out, and do not let anyone in.” He was not certain that would work, but perhaps soon he would be too far gone to unlock the door himself.

What he would do next was very important. It could possibly save his life. He’d have to send a message to Dr. McCoy expressing how important it was that go to New Vulcan. To get their course altered, maybe going through the captain would be easier, but Spock could not do that. He had to trust that the doctor would understand.

As the hours wore on, Spock only grew hotter and hotter. He alternated between stalking along the walls growling, and laying down and whimpering at the heat pulsing in his body.

Though his logic was gone, his senses were greatly heightened. He could scent the object of his desires somewhere in the room. He pounced on the sweatshirt that had fallen off his bed and fell into a sleeplike state on top of it.

His last coherent thought was that he would either die here on the floor or live by being bonded with a stranger if they reached New Vulcan in time. He was not sure which one was the better fate.

❖ ❖ ❖

Jim crunched an apple loudly as he leaned against the wall of the rec room. Hopefully the fruit would cancel out the unhealthy breakfast he’d had, and keep Bones from saying anything to him. Honestly, he acted like Jim’s diet choices affected him personally. It was quite the opposite. If Jim wanted to get fat, that was his business.

He took another bite and looked to where a couple of Ensigns were playing darts. He smirked when he recalled that darts was the game of choice between the American and British captain in one of the romance novels he loved. And to think he actually gave that book to Spock!  
It probably made a very nice paperweight or kindling or something, because there was no way Spock would actually read it. But then there was the thought that if he did…he’d face some of the most _descriptive_ love scenes ever written. Honestly, there was so many euphemisms for male genitals that Jim had to look some of them up to see if they were real words.

He'd honestly forgotten about that book until he’d found it on his shelf in his old room on shore leave. Well, now it was being forgotten in Spock’s room. Maybe Jim could see if he wanted to play chess or something.

He pushed his thoughts from straying to the similarities between their chess games and the erotic dart games in the book as he walked down to the science labs.

All the bright-eyed blue-wearing crew members were talking excitedly and showing each other reports. They also all stopped to salute him when they saw him, but none of them had seen Spock all day.

He went down to engineering, but Spock wasn’t there either. Scotty seemed a little nervous when he said he hadn’t seen Spock since that morning.

As Jim walked back to his quarters, it occurred to him that _he_ hadn’t seen Spock since they talked at breakfast. That was weird. It wasn’t at all like Spock to skip work. Could it be he was still sick?

“There you are. I need to talk to you.”

Jim paused from approaching Spock’s door and turned to see McCoy. He had a PADD from sick bay, which means he probably also had Jim’s records.

“Whatever notion you have that I’d deviated from the diet you set for me if very unfounded, and frankly I’m offended.”

“This isn’t about any of that.” He seemed strangely more serious than usual, and Jim suddenly felt worried.

“What is it?”

“Let’s go somewhere private.” They were finally seated in Jim’s quarters as Jim looked over expectantly.

“Okay, tell me.”

“We need to go to New Vulcan.” McCoy said.

“What? What for?”

“I can’t say much, but Spock is…sick, and I think it’s best if we let the Vulcan doctors take care of it.” The fact that he hadn’t touched the drink Jim had given him meant more than the stony seriousness in his voice.

“Sick? How sick? What’s wrong with him?” He hated how easily his voice betrayed his emotions. He definitely cared about Spock more than what was professional, but he wasn’t trying to advertise that.

“Just…very sick. I thought something might be wrong when he came to me last night. His reading looked…off. I checked the Vulcan biology data we had, but apparently, I needed to go deeper. I had to dig and dig, and finally send a message to a hospital on New Vulcan and tell them I had a Vulcan on board with something bad before I finally got clearance.”

“So, you know what’s wrong with him?”

“Yep.” He nodded. “Spock even confirmed it earlier this evening.”

“What is it?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“What the hell?”

“I’m sorry, but patient confidentiality prevents me from telling. I _could_ if I had Spock’s consent, but he can’t exactly give it right now. I just need you to give the orders for us to go. Just know it’s very important.”

“Then yes, yes, of course.” Jim’s nails dug into his palms uncomfortably and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. “You’re sure you can’t tell me anything? Is he going to die?”

“I know you’re worried, and you care for him and all that, but I really can’t say.” McCoy stood up. “We have about just enough time to get there if we leave now.”

Jim nodded. They went down to the bridge and Jim gave the orders. Maybe it was his own stony seriousness, but no one even asked why as they set a course for New Vulcan.

“Jim…is it serious?” Uhura stopped him on his way back to his quarters and placed a hand on his arm. He didn’t focus on the friendliness of the gesture, but on the worry in her voice. She was usually so composed, but then Jim recalled how close she was with Spock. She must know why they were going so suddenly.

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “Bones can’t tell me anything about what’s wrong with him. I just hope we’re not too late.”

“Me too.”

Jim couldn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t stop thinking about Spock. He was now too ill to even leave his room. Gone were their chess games where Jim tried so hard not to brush his hands against Spock’s or stare at him too long. Instead, he was just filled with dread at the idea that they might be too late.

He might regret it, but he had to see Spock. He just had too. He remembered childhood illnesses where he was, surprise, allergic to the medicine and had to have an alternative one that took longer to work. He’d sit in his bed with no one to tend to him. He had to get his own soup and ginger ale.

Jim couldn’t leave Spock to that fate.

He entered the bathroom and then walked through to the other side to Spock’s door. If Spock was really in bed like Jim pictured, Jim didn’t want him to have to get up. He carefully punched in his override code just as he had last night, and the door opened.

It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness before he noticed how different Spock’s room was from last night. Last night, Jim had noticed how neat and organized everything was, and how there was the faint smell of spices in the air.

Now, it looked as if someone had stalked through and knocked everything off the shelves. Books and things littered the floor, and Jim carefully stepped over them as he felt for the manual light switch.

Before he could find it, he heard a loud growling like a dog. Jim jumped and turned to see a dark silhouette in the doorway to the bedroom.

“Spock? How are you feeling?”

The growling got louder as Spock stalked closer. He was wearing the sweatshirt Jim had given him, and though Jim had subconsciously craved seeing Spock in that with nothing underneath, there was something unsettling about this.

“Spock?” Why was there fear in his voice? Spock was nothing to be afraid of. Yes, he was stronger than Jim, and currently looking at him like a bear might observe an innocent family’s picnic.

“ _You…You…”_ Spock growled, stalking closer. He really did look sick.

“Spock, buddy, it’s me. I was just checking on you.” He slowly backed away as Spock came closer. “I’m sorry if I bothered you.”

What the hell was wrong with him? The impassive look on his face only occasionally marked by soft feelings. Instead, he looked so angry, his lips drawn back in a snarl. Jim never noticed before how dangerously sharp Spock’s teeth looked.

The smell of spices was gone, now replaced with something else that by the time Jim identified what it was, he didn’t know how to feel. It was the raw smell of sex.

“ _Need…Need…”_

“What is it? What do you need? I can help you!” Jim gasped. Spock rushed towards him. Jim jumped back and stumbled into the desk. Spock grabbed Jim by the arms and they both fell to the floor. “We’re going to help you! You’ll be okay!” Jim said, grunting under the weight of Spock on top of him. He tried to wiggle out from under him, but gasped as he felt Spock’s nails dig into his body like claws. Spock’s face was inches from his throat, and his breath was hot like fire.

All previous thoughts that Spock would never hurt him were gone. This wasn’t his Spock anymore.

“Get…. _off!”_ As Jim pushed back, one hand on the softness of Spock’s neck, he felt the Vulcan shift on top of him, though the growling grew louder. If he could just shift his weight enough, he could wiggle free.

Spock snapped his jaws down at him, and Jim instinctively pulled his arm back. Spock snapped again, and this time, Jim felt sharp teeth pierce his skin.

Jim screamed in pain as his own primal instincts took over. He hated to do it, he really did, but he kicked Spock. His foot finally connected with the Vulcan’s chest and he was thrown off long enough for Jim to scramble up and out the door.

The bathroom door shut, and they were finally separated. Jim was panting, leaning against it as he heard Spock still growling on the other side. There were a few thumps against the wall, and Jim could only imagine Spock was throwing himself against it in attempt to get to him.

Jim took a few steps away from the wall and looked down at his arm. He was bleeding pretty bad. He went to the sink and winced as he ran it under cold water. Once it was clean, he could clearly see deep teeth marks like fangs. He winced again as he tried to doctor it up as best as he could.

Maybe it was stupid not to tell Bones, but he didn’t want this to get around. If people thought that Spock had attacked the captain, there was no telling how it might come back to them. He might never get to work with Spock again.

Yes, technically, Spock had attacked him, but Jim didn’t blame him. Whatever was going on, one thing was certain: it was much worse than Jim had thought. This was not any sickness like he’d seen in his lifetime. If this really was something only other Vulcans could help, Jim just prayed they weren’t too late.

When the bleeding finally stopped enough for him to do something, he coated it some derma-gel that was supposed to help the skin regrow and fight infection. It wasn’t as good as the equipment in Sick Bay, but hopefully it’d heal fast and leave no scar.

The last thing he needed was evidence that Spock attacked him. Or that he went in Spock’s room when maybe he shouldn’t have.

He went back to his own quarters after wrapping his arm in a bandage. He was fine. Everything was fine. He laid down in bed and tried to go to sleep. It was hard to keep from rolling in a way that hurt his arm, but he finally drifted off to sleep.

…

…

 _“You have beaten me once again, Captain. How do you do it?”_ Spock never looked annoyed when he lost at chess. More like impressed. It was hard to notice, but it was there. Jim noticed and tried not to smile.

 _“Your playing style is too predictable.”_ Jim said.

“ _Hm… Perhaps you could show me what you mean?”_ Spock looked up from the board and they locked eyes for a second.

“ _Okay.”_

Jim knew this was a dream, only because he’d had the same one before. It never went much farther than light touching and staring into each other’s eyes, but he always woke up feeling extra happy. Of course, the he felt guilty about thinking of a friend that way, and he swore it’d never happen again…but you couldn’t exactly control your dreams.

Jim stood up from his chair and walked around to Spock’s side. He placed one hand on Spock’s shoulder, and the other on top of Spock’s hand, guiding him. This part always got him excited, because he knew what was next.

“ _See, you’re thinking too much. You gotta be loose. You just gotta go with it sometimes.”_ Jim looked over at Spock, their faces inches away. _“You know what I mean?”_

“ _I believe so.”_

Every time Spock kissed him in the dream, it was just as exciting as it was the first time. But there was always the sad frustration of not _really_ being able to feel it because it wasn’t real. Still, they always ended up on the floor grinding and panting.

“ _I like you so much. I wish you really think about me like this.”_ Jim whispered into the crook of Spock’s neck.

 _“I do, Jim. I do.”_ Spock replied.

Jim let himself believe it just for the time being. Because he knew when he woke up, it’d all be gone. Spock kissed him and touched him, and this time it went much further than it ever had before. Jim orgasmed in his sleep just as he rolled over on his arm. The mix of intense pleasure and pain was interesting, but not something he ever wanted to feel again.

“Ah…Ow…Ow…”

Jim sat up in bed and looked at his arm. Yes, there was a mess in his shorts, but this was more important. He unwrapped the bandage and winced. Two deep marks like fangs were flanked by thin lines where all of Spock’s teeth had gotten him.

The only thing that looked better was that it had stopped bleeding. He sighed and went to go clean up in the bathroom.

The next morning, he tried not to think of the two things that plagued him most. Spock and his arm. That was actually impossible, considering every time he moved his arm it throbbed in pain. That then would remind him of how it came to be that way.

He sighed as he remembered the savage person his friend had become.

“Status?” Jim asked as he gently touched the bite on his arm through his sleeve.

“We should be at New Vulcan in just a few hours.” Sulu said.

Jim knew Sulu was trying to make him feel better by saying just a few hours instead of the something like seven or eight that it actually was. Everyone was comforting him like _he_ was the one who was sick. Or maybe they could just tell how worried he was.

Pacing the bridge didn’t help. It felt too small. When he branched out to pacing up and down the ships corridors, he realized the ship was also too small.

He found himself outside of Spock’s door. He sighed and stepped closer, listening. Just because he couldn’t hear the agonizing painful growls didn’t mean they weren’t there.

“Don’t, Jim.”

Startled, he turned to see Uhura.

“What?”

“Don’t go in there. I know you were thinking about it.”

“What makes you say that?” He slyly put his arm behind his back, not that she would even see the bandage.

She didn’t even have to say anything at first. The look she gave him regret asking.

“Because I know you care. But you can’t see him now. It’s too dangerous.”

Dangerous. He remembered Spock’s snapping teeth inches from his face. What if it’d been his neck instead of his arm?

“Wait, how do you know if you haven’t seen him?” Jim asked, suddenly suspicious.

“Because I know the symptoms. Of course, I’ve never seen it in person. No human would be allowed to see something like that. Not the way Vulcans are about it.”

“So, you know what it is?” He brightened up. Instead of jealously at remembering how close she once was with Spock, he was immensely relieved he’d found someone with some information. “Bones won’t tell me a damn thing.”

“Then I shouldn’t have either.” She suddenly looked embarrassed. “He’s right. Just…leave it. He’ll get better when we get to Vulcan.”

“No… you have to tell me what’s wrong! I hate waiting like this.”

“I can’t! You have to wait.” She said firmly. “There’s nothing we can do. We can’t fix it…only one thing can. It’ll be over soon.”

He let her put her hand on his arm again. It was nice actually. As nice as she was being to him, it made him wonder if she knew he truth. The real truth –how much he really loved Spock. She might go back to hating him if she ever found out.

“I gotta go.”

He didn’t know why he was suddenly so angry. Maybe it was because she sounded scared an uncertain about Spock’s fate. Or that all he wanted was to be there _now_ and for everything to be fixed. Or maybe it was the fact that his damn arm was throbbing again.

He got to his quarters and took his shirt off. Not only did he want to examine the bite, but he was suddenly so damn hot. He took off the bandage and saw that it didn’t seem to be healing. If he didn’t want it to get worse, he’d need to tell Bones. He obviously couldn’t do that.

“God… Ah…” It was so fucking hot in here suddenly. He felt sweat on his brow, and he swiped at it with his hand as he stalked across the room.

Relaxing didn’t help. Heat was building up in him fast. He recognized a fever when he had one, but coherent thoughts such as a wet washcloth or asking for Bones weren’t happening. Instead, he alternated between wallowing on the bed and on the floor.

He stripped down to fight the heat and sweating, but it didn’t help. Instead, it seemed to get worse and settle into something else. Every time the bite on his arm throbbed, so did his groin. He couldn’t ever remember being this horny in his life, or this angry.

“Okay…something’s wrong.” He growled under his breath. The thought to get help was finally becoming clear, but before he could comm for Bones, he found himself staring ahead, a low growl in his throat.

The bathroom door. Spock’s room was just a few walls away. This heat, this throbbing in his body was nothing compared to the heat of a Vulcan’s body. Oh, how good would it feel to press against Spock, smell his scent, be inside him…

“No…” He pulled back from the door, his heart racing. He couldn’t go in there. It was too dangerous. Or, maybe it wasn’t. He felt primal, strong, like maybe he could beat Spock and pin him down. Let him bite him again. Spock seemed to like it.

Jim opened the bathroom door and stepped. The cool tile walls and floor seemed to cool his brain enough for rationality to kick in just as he reached for the door to Spock’s room. This was too dangerous for either of them. Spock was animalistic, and now Jim felt the same. Spock could be the one bitten this time.

Then something changed his mind. A low thumping against the door, following by a whining begging sound. It was Spock, just as hot and raging on the other side. Jim snapped and opened the door.

There was mutual teeth on skin as they collided. Jim pressed his mouth to Spock’s neck, biting as growling as he felt Spock’s nails dig into his skin. They fell to the floor of the threshold and Jim felt Spock’s teeth on his chest as he growled in Spock’s ear.

He felt Spock tear at his underwear, ripping them off, and that filled him with nothing but more hunger and desire. He was surrounded by nothing but Spock’s scent, the sharpness of his teeth and nails, and the softness of his skin. There was unbearable heat that built and built as he felt Spock rut up against his hardness. Jim’s growls died down into whimpers as he reached down between them and spread Spock’s legs.

“Need… Need…” Spock whimpered in his ear.

“Yes…” Jim pressed his mouth gently under Spock’s ear as he pushed into him. The Vulcan’s natural lubricant helped greatly, and as they began to move together, driving their bodies to the brink, he felt the heat start to melt.

❖ ❖ ❖

Jim woke up, and his first thought was to fall right back asleep. He was so tired. His body was tired and achy… and… somehow, he felt great.

He opened his eyes and realized he wasn’t in his own bed. He was in Spock’s room, which was for some reason freezing cold, with nothing but a sheet over his naked body. He shivered and pulled the sheet around himself, before rolling and pressing closer to Spock.

“W-Why is it so cold in here, Spock?” Jim asked.

“It seemed a logical way to subdue the fever.” He replied.

“Well, turn the heat on now.”

“I cannot get out of bed, I am too cold.”

Jim held back a smile before pulling the sheet away from his face long enough to speak clearly.

“Computer, raise temperature to eighty degrees.” As he felt it warm up, he was able to sit up and let the sheet fall off his body. He then began to examine his many bite marks. “Damn, you really got me.”

“You bit me as well.” Spock said.

Jim turned to look at Spock. A deep mark was above one nipple, and Jim could see another on his neck when he turned. Both were bright green and Jim resisted the urge to touch them.

“Well, I think your teeth are sharper, so…” He chuckled. Spock did not seem to react. He just laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. Jim grew somber and laid back down, letting their heads share and pillow and their bodies touch lightly. “You weren’t sick. You were in heat.” Jim felt stupid that he hadn’t realized before.

“Yes.” Spock said.

“…Was I in heat too?” He asked.

“Yes. You were experience Plak Tow –the fever of Pon Farr but not to the same degree as a Vulcan does.”

“Because you bit me.” Jim moved the sheet and looked at the bite. It still looked fresh.

“Yes. I am remorseful, though I have no real recollection of doing so. I also would like to thank you for saving my life.” He rolled over, his back to Jim. “But I am sure you understand my decision to put in a request to transfer.”

“What?!” Jim sat back up. “You can’t leave!”

“I must… I have done the one thing I promised myself I would not do. I revealed my affection for you. It was made worse by the fact that I used my strength to take advantage of –”

“You did not take advantage of me!” Jim said firmly, placing a hand on Spock’s shoulder. “I was the one who opened the door. And, you’re not alone, Spock. I have affection for you too.” He’d just been trying to deny it until recently. “I can’t tell you how many dreams I’ve had about you.”

“You have had dreams about me?” Spock’s eyes widened as he rolled back over onto his back.

“Well, just this one dream over and over again.” Jim felt himself blush. “Where we’re playing chess and… nothing, it’s really dumb.” He suddenly felt embarrassed.

“That does not sound dumb.” Spock said. “It is just that…you never act flirtatious with me like you do with others.”

“That’s because I never thought you’d like that. I’m never serious with others because I never actually wanted a relationship with anyone else. I’ve liked you for such a long time, but I guess I was afraid to do anything about it.”

“I suppose I was as well.”

Spock’s arm went around him. So warm. Jim closed his eyes and pressed close to Spock, their bodies overlapping.

“Are we okay now?” Jim was referring both to their physical health and their relationship.

“Yes. We are quite okay.” Spock said after a second’s consideration.

Last night was a blur, and Jim couldn’t remember if they’d kissed. If they had, it wasn’t sweet and tender like a first kiss should have been. It was probably all teeth.

Jim rolled on top of Spock, straddling his hips, and looked down at him. Spock’s usual neat hair was quite disheveled, and there was another bite mark now visible on the other side of his neck.

“You know, I couldn’t help but notice the copy of _The Bachelor’s Voyage_ I gave you was on the floor. You’ve been reading it, haven’t you?” Jim smirked.

“I…had been skimming it.” Spock actually seemed to blush. “But I found it a tad tame. I am used to much more explicit love scenes.”

Jim actually laughed before leaning down and kissing him. He felt Spock’s arms immediately go around him and hold him as their tongues met. Jim’s hands gingerly stroked Spock’s chest before moving lower.

He figured they had about an hour before they reached Vulcan and a bunch of stuffy doctors would be beamed on board to check on them. He wanted to make that hour count.

“What do you think those Vulcan doctors will say about this?” Jim asked.

“I am sure they will see the logic in the fact that we mated to calm our fevers, and the fact that we shall continue our bond because we care for each other.”

“Hm. And our _human_ doctor?” Jim couldn’t help but laugh.

“Doctor McCoy may be surprised, but if he is truly our friend, then he will also understand.”

Jim didn’t want to think any more about the future. He kissed Spock again, as his hands tried to map as much of Spock body as they could. He felt Spock’s hands on his thighs, before they both moved around to his ass.

He gasped softly and he could have sworn he felt Spock smirk against his skin. This time they made love slowly and tenderly. Both to savor it, and to account for their tender muscles.

Jim was grateful that soon they’d be fixed up by a doctor, and maybe they could heal all those bites. Spock’s skin was way too beautiful to be marked by them.

But maybe, if he asked nicely, they’d let him keep the scar from just one.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @frappuccinio


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